


better read between the lines (in case i need it when i'm older).

by paleromantic



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Yearning, eddie and myra break up, eddie and richie are in love that is all, listen I know exactly 0 things about this fandom I just wrote this for my friends, maybe too much tea making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paleromantic/pseuds/paleromantic
Summary: The rain continued to pour outside, the wind hitting the trees so hard that Richie almost didn’t notice the pounding on the door until a voice rose up to accompany it.“Richie Tozier answer the fucking door!”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	better read between the lines (in case i need it when i'm older).

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! <3 (Please be gentle I don't go here)

“Oh, come  _ on _ .” 

Richie grimaced, and then repositioned his arm, slotting it down the back of his hot tank to reach the lever there. He was by no means a plumber- that would be a  _ real _ job, perish the thought- but surely he could fix his stupid fucking heating before he froze to death. 

“Ah- ah-  _ there _ !” He managed to push the lever back with his fingertips, hearing the pipes come to life before he pulled back and shook the ache out of his hand. His house was drafty and rickety even on it’s best day, but then again, so was he. That’s what blankets were made for, and stupid novelty slippers that pissed his friends off when he wore them to their houses. At least now he could enjoy some sensation in his extremities before the rain knocked the power out again and he had to rinse and repeat. He closed the door to the hot tank again, before walking to the kitchen to wait until the heating worked its way back through the house. In the meantime, a cup of tea would at least help to warm his hands. 

The kettle grumbled it’s way to a boil, and he drummed his fingers on the counter as he watched the steam curl and dissipate. One would have thought that a comedian would hate silence- at times, Richie thought that he hated it too- but there was something oddly calming about a quiet kitchen at night. Plus, when the silence got to be too much there was always television, always re-runs of old comedy skits that he had almost worn out, always  _ something _ . 

Once his tea was ready, he hip-checked the cutlery drawer closed and took a sip of it, almost scalding the tip of his tongue but just managing to cool it off before it stuck. 

His phone sat cold and black on the counter- it usually did that- so he picked it up and unlocked it. His thumb hovered over the messaging app before he shook his head, locking the phone again, They were all old now anyway, and old people went to bed early. 

The rain continued to pour outside, the wind hitting the trees so hard that Richie almost didn’t notice the pounding on the door until a voice rose up to accompany it. 

“Richie Tozier answer the  _ fucking _ door!”

Richie paused, and then turned to set his mug down before walking out to the front door. “What-”

“Richie you fucking bastard, I can  _ see _ you! Open the fucking door!”

Richie rolled his eyes, twisting the lock before pulling the door open. His porch light was shitty at the best of times, and the dim light cast dark shadows on Eddie’s face. He frowned, and then looked past him out into the night.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I left Myra.” Eddie’s voice was hollow, like he could barely believe what he was saying himself.

“What, she wouldn’t fit in the car? Or-”

Eddie grimaced, and then laughed harshly. “You fucking prick. Can I come in or are you going to leave me out here?”

Richie snorted and stepped back, letting Eddie walk in to drip on his carpet and then pushing the door closed again. “You really left her?”

The shorter man nodded jerkily, his expression hard to read. Not that Eddie had ever been particularly  _ easy _ to read, bit Ritchie had learned all the tricks of the trade as they had grown up. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I can stay here, right?”

He paused, and then stepped backwards. “Wait, fuck- I didn’t even ask you, Jesus Christ I should leave-”

Richie cut him off, holding up a hand. “Beep beep, Jesus fucking Christ. Of  _ course  _ you can stay, dipshit.”

Eddie visibly deflated, having worked himself up too much to do anything but huff. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t mention it, alright?” Richie reached out to ruffle his hair, forgetting the rain outside and then wiping it dry on Eddie’s shirt with a grimace. “That’s what friends are for. You need to use the shower?”

“No, I was just gonna stay wet and cold all night.” Eddie rolled his eyes, peeling his wet hoodie off. “Yeah I need to use the fucking shower.”

“Alright, alright.” Ritchie groaned and then took the man’s bags, pressing them back into his hands. “Go shower, I’ll reboil the kettle. Fuck the environment, right?”

Eddie snorted and slapped the top of the doorframe as he left the room- a habit he had developed ever since he had gotten tall enough to reach them. “Maybe sleeping in my car would be a better idea after all.”

“Don’t let the door hit you, man!” Richie huffed and flicked the kettle on, getting everything ready for tea. He was lucky that he had fuck all else to be doing, really- life was pretty dull between shows, just writing and rewriting and balancing pots of tea and plates of biscuits as he carried them up to his ‘office’. Eddie couldn’t have arrived at a better time, as far as Richie’s boring hermit life was concerned. Of course, his friends tried to drag him out of the house sometimes. Sometimes, he even let them.

Eddie never really struggled with pulling Richie out of his between-show funk though, probably due in no small part to the fact that Richie had been in love with him ever since they were kids. Not that Eddie knew that, of course. Although, sometimes Richie wasn’t sure who either of them were kidding. Still though, Eddie had always been  _ straight _ , had been  _ married _ , had been- 

But he wasn’t anymore, was he. 

“Rich?” Richie jumped, the mug almost clattering off the counter before he caught it by it’s slim handle. 

Eddie paused, eyebrow raised. “You okay man?”

Richie blinked, and then looked over at Eddie. Apparently he had been lost in thought longer than he had realised, because Eddie looked like he had already finished showering, the water curling the hairs at the base of his neck like a little ducktail. He felt his stomach flip, and then took a forceful gulp of tea to drown any butterflies threatening to flutter there. “What, me? Yeah I’m fine, dude.”

“You sure? You look like you’ve seen a spider or something.” Eddie’s worried expression lasted another second or two, before he broke out into a shit-eating grin. Richie rolled his eyes and pushed him away. 

“You’re such an asshole, Crapbag.” 

“... Really though. Are you good?”

Richie paused, and then turned to make the promised cup of tea. As he stirred the bag into the water, he huffed and pulled the bandaid off. “What happened, man? I thought you and your white whale were endgame or something.”

“Fuck off.” Eddie scratched at the back of his neck, before gratefully taking the cup Eddie held out to him. “I guess we just had different visions for our lives, you know?”

“Different visions?” Richie laughed. “What different visions?”

Eddie made a face, and then took a sip of his tea. “She saw me being in love with her, I guess. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.”

Eddie shook his head, and Richie watched a droplet of water trickle down from behind his ear, tracing the contours of his neck before vanishing underneath the collar of his t-shirt. Not for the first time, he cursed whatever spiteful sky dick made him fall in love with his best friend. 

“So you’re back on the market then? I hear tinder these days is… ripe. The age of internet dating has really dawned, and all that.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be needing any of that, to be honest.” Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, letting the heat transfer into his palms and the tips of his fingers. “I was never really the dating type.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me neither.” 

Their eyes met over the tea, and for once Richie wasn’t the first to look away. He wasn’t sure exactly what he saw in the other man’s eyes, but his heart seemed to have a pretty good idea of it. He had always been good at reading Eddie, after all. “Do… do you need more milk?”

“Oh- yeah, please.”

He took the carton out, handing it over and feeling the heat building under his skin where their hands brushed. Eddie jerked his hand away quickly, heat instead rising to his cheeks as he added the milk and went to put it back in the fridge. 

“Hey, Rich?”

Richie raised an eyebrow at him and Eddie rolled his eyes, although his expression stayed oddly soft. “Thanks for letting me stay here. You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Yeah well. What’s mine is yours, and all that.” 

Eddie stared at him, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked back down at his mug. “Still, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, Eds.”

They fell into a comfortable silence- the silence was  _ always _ comfortable with them, an easy routine that they seemed to follow without having to say anything. Richie wondered if Eddie and Myra fit together like that. He doubted it. 

They finished their tea quickly with no conversation to interrupt it, and Richie figured that Eddie would probably need his rest after the breakdown of his marriage. He seemed fine, but Eddie always seemed fine. He offered up his own room rather than the guest room, saying that the guest bed was less comfortable than his own and that they could switch, but Eddie refused. 

“I can handle an uncomfortable bed, Richie.” Eddie chuckled. “Goodnight then?”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Richie watched him leave the room, heard his footsteps up the stairs and smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to Eddie choosing to come to his house, especially now that he was making himself at home upstairs in his guest room. He hoped that he would get the chance to, though. 


End file.
